Wishbone
this is chapter 2, click here for series masterlist
description: the second eddie sees you for the first time, he's hooked. after stalking your job's instagram account, he finds your profile. cue shameless flirting in the DMs, cryptic notes, and a "hey girlie!" DM.
pairing: eddie x you (fem!reader)
tags: eddie x you, no y/n, mixed media fic (writing, text messages, images), modern au, eddie slid in her DMs, mutual pining, y2k alt baddie reader, cigarettes as flirting, eddie's on his phone every 6 seconds, robin buckley is a menace, possible love triangle, possesive-ish!eddie, jealous!eddie, eddies down catastrophically
TW: smoking, horny eye contact
WC: 6.1k
A/N: here's the long awaited part two!!! i have started to rewatch the Scream franchise and...i have IDEASSSS BRO UGH. stay tuned ;) reblogs are always appreciated<3 much love muah muah enjoyyyyyyy
In true Robin fashion, she sends about fifteen emojis before responding again:
You stare at the message, then sit up immediately, resting your back against the headboard.
Your stomach twists reading those messages. Which is so annoying, right? You've known Eddie for all of twenty-four hours, and suddenly you feel jealous of someone else who shows interest.
You dramatically throw your head back and open up the looming message from Chrissy. Fuck it.
Oh.
You stare at the smiley face like it personally offended you. Because, it sort of did.
You sigh and shut your phone off for a second, because what the absolute fuck is going on?
Then, another buzz snaps your attention back from whatever spiral was about to follow. It's not Robin or Chrissy this time, but Eddie.
And for some odd fucked up reason, it makes your chest sting.
Naturally, you immediately screenshot it and send it straight to Robin.
You pause and stare between the conversations: Chrissy's sweet little smiley face, Eddie being jealous in real time, and Robin just blatantly stating the unfortunate obvious.
Then, slowly, a dangerous grin spreads across your face. Because two can play this game.
You leave Chrissy on read, which in this day and age is practically a physical slap across the face. Then you respond to Eddie's blatant test to see whether you and Steve are a thing.
Then, immediately after:
The next morning, you did exactly that. Picking out what you could only describe as your "outfit of mass destruction" and posting it on your story for good measure:
The second Eddie sees you step out onto your front porch, he forgets how breathing works…like, genuinely. One hand still hangs out the driver’s-side window of the van, cigarette between his fingers, while the other tightens around the steering wheel hard enough that his rings creak faintly against the leather.
Because Jesus Christ, you knew what you were doing with that outfit. The worst part? The really worst part? Is that you notice immediately.
Your mouth twitches as you walk down the driveway slowly, sunglasses perched on your nose despite the early hour. Eddie watches the way your boots hit the pavement like he’s witnessing a religious experience. By the time you reach the passenger side, he still hasn’t said anything.
You open the door, sliding into the seat beside him casually.
“Good morning.”
Nothing.
Then finally, “…You’re evil.”
You laugh immediately, shutting the van door behind you. “That bad?”
Eddie turns toward you fully now, looking deeply offended by your entire existence. “Sweetheart, I almost hit a mailbox pulling up here.”
“That sounds like a personal problem.”
“You can’t dress like that at seven in the morning.”
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
A grin spreads across your face as you reach over, plucking the cigarette from between his fingers for a drag without asking. Eddie watches you do it with an expression that’s dangerously close to lovesick.
“Oh, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” he mutters.
You hand the cigarette back slowly. “Maybe.”
Eddie stares at you for another second before finally pulling away from the curb with a dramatic sigh. “This is gonna be the longest school day of my life.”
The ride to Hawkins High is unfairly comfortable. The radio plays low through the speakers while morning sunlight spills across the dashboard, catching on the silver rings wrapped around Eddie’s fingers as he drums them against the wheel absentmindedly.
And he keeps looking at you. At red lights, at stop signs, every five seconds, like he physically cannot help himself. Finally, you glance over. “You know, staring at the road is generally encouraged.”
“I am looking at the road.”
“You almost rear-ended that truck.”
“It was worth it.”
You snort softly, shaking your head as you crack the window slightly.
Cold morning air rushes through the van instantly, carrying the smell of smoke and leather and Eddie’s cologne with it. God, what a dangerous combination.
Eddie catches you shivering slightly and immediately reaches over without thinking, tugging the sleeve of your jacket higher over your shoulder, where it had slipped down. The gesture’s so casual it almost catches you off guard.
“You cold?”
“A little.”
He hums thoughtfully before turning the heat up another notch. “There. Princess treatment.”
“That what this is?”
“Obviously.”
You glance over at him again. “You do this with all the girls you drive to school?”
Eddie grins lazily. “Only the ones making me lose my mind before first period.”
Unfortunately for you, that line lands exactly as he intended. By the time the van pulls into the Hawkins High parking lot, your stomach’s already warm from laughing too much.
And Eddie’s completely gone for you, that part’s obvious now. He parks crooked because he’s too busy looking at you while backing in, which immediately earns him a laugh.
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter. “Do you actually know how to drive?”
“Not anymore.”
Before you can answer, Eddie suddenly reaches across the center console, and your breath catches slightly. But he just tugs your sunglasses down your nose enough to properly look at your eyes.
“…Yeah,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “I’m fucked.”
Then he smirks again immediately after, like he didn’t just say something devastatingly sincere. “Cigarette?”
Outside, the morning air smells again like wet pavement and gasoline. Students flood the parking lot in loud groups while Eddie leans against the side of his van beside you, lighting a cigarette between his lips first before turning toward you automatically.
He cups the lighter against the wind for you without even asking, and the flame flickers gold between you, your eyes lifting to his through the smoke. And Eddie visibly swallows.
“Oh, you’re trying to kill me today,” he murmurs.
You inhale slowly before answering. “You’re being dramatic again.”
“Hon, I haven’t even STARTED being dramatic.”
Before you can recover from the choice of nickname, voices call out across the parking lot.
“Well, well, WELL.” Robin.
You glance over just in time to see her and Steve walking toward the van together, both immediately clocking the situation in front of them. Specifically:
Eddie standing way too close to you
your cigarette between your fingers
his lighter still in his hand
and his arm casually sliding around your waist, the second Steve approaches
Subtle. Very subtle.
Steve notices instantly and starts grinning like an asshole. “Oh, he’s feeling possessive now,” Robin says delightedly.
Eddie flips her off without removing his arm from around you. “Good morning to you, too.”
Steve stops beside the van, looking slowly between the two of you. “Wow. So this is why Munson looked like he was gonna throw up during homeroom yesterday.”
“I did not—”
Robin bursts out laughing immediately.
You glance up at Eddie innocently. “Rough morning?”
“Don’t start.”
But he’s smiling when he says it, which gets even worse when you reach over and fix the collar of his jacket absentmindedly.
Because now Eddie looks like he might actually die. Robin notices, Steve notices, hell, half the parking lot probably notices.
And somewhere across the parking lot? Chrissy Cunningham absolutely notices, too.
By the time you and Eddie make it inside Hawkins High, people are staring, not subtly, either.
Which honestly makes sense considering Eddie Munson has his arm wrapped around your waist, and the two of you are very obviously existing in your own little world while weaving through the hallway crowd.
Eddie pretends not to notice the attention, mostly because if he acknowledges it, he might start acting smug about it.
“You know,” you say casually as the two of you walk down the hallway, “people are looking at us like we committed a crime.”
“We probably did.” Eddie shrugs. “Pretty sure this school hates attractive people.”
You snort softly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet,” he says, glancing down at you with a lazy grin, “you keep hanging around me.”
Unfortunately? Also true.
His thumb keeps tracing absentminded little patterns against your side as you walk, and every single time he does it, your stomach flips in the most annoying way imaginable.
The worst part is he seems completely unaware he’s doing it…or maybe very aware, hard to tell with Eddie.
As you turn the corner toward the arts hallway, you notice people whispering almost immediately. Eddie notices that part and immediately pulls you a little closer against his side.
“You’re doing that on purpose now,” you murmur.
“Doing what?”
You look pointedly at the arm around your waist, and Eddie looks down like he somehow forgot it was there.
“Oh, this?” he asks innocently. “Thought you liked princess treatment.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling again, which absolutely destroys him a little. By the time you reach your classroom door, Eddie’s already dreading leaving. Which is insane, he’s known you for like two days.
You stop outside the classroom while students file in around you loudly.
Eddie leans casually against the wall beside the door, cigarette-free for once but still smelling faintly like smoke and cold air. His curls are slightly messy from the drive over, cheeks pink from the morning chill.
Cute. Dangerously cute, at that.
“You gonna survive first period without me?” you ask lightly.
Eddie sighs dramatically. “Honestly? No.”
“You’re clingy.”
“You made me this way.”
A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and Eddie immediately softens hearing it. God. He’s so gone.
“Alright,” you say eventually, adjusting the strap of your bag higher onto your shoulder. “I should probably go before our fans start a rumor we eloped.”
“That already happened yesterday, actually.”
You snort again, shaking your head. Then, before you can overthink it, you step a little closer. Your hand slides briefly against the front of his jacket as you lean up and press a quick kiss against his cheek.
Soft, fast, and warm enough to completely short-circuit his nervous system. Then you pull back as if nothing happened.
“I’ll see you later, Munson.”
And just like that, you disappear into the classroom, leaving Eddie standing there in the hallway. Frozen, absolutely fucking frozen. His brain completely flatlines for a solid five seconds.
A sophomore accidentally shoulder-checks him, trying to get into class. Eddie doesn’t even react, because all he can think about is that you kissed him. On the cheek. In public. Voluntarily.
“Oh my God,” he whispers to himself.
Then immediately drags both hands down his face, trying to get it together before he embarrasses himself. Too late, fucker.
Because Gareth appears at the end of the hallway at the exact wrong moment and spots Eddie standing there looking visibly shell-shocked.
“…Why do you look like you just saw God?”
Eddie turns slowly, still stunned, still pink-cheeked, and still feeling the ghost of your lipstick against his skin. “She kissed me.”
Gareth blinks once. “What?”
“She kissed me.”
“…On the mouth?”
“No.” Eddie pauses dramatically. “Worse.”
“Huh?”
Eddie points weakly toward his cheek as if it explains everything. “Here.”
Gareth stares at him for a long moment before immediately bursting into laughter so loud that people turn around. “Oh, you are DOWN BAD.”
Fifth period passes painfully slow. Mostly because Hawkins High apparently operates entirely on gossip, and everybody has already noticed you showed up with Eddie that morning.
You catch people looking at you in the halls, whispering during class. One girl literally asks if you and Eddie are dating while you’re grabbing books from your locker. Which is insane considering it’s been, like, forty-eight hours.
By the time your teacher finally lets the class out for a bathroom break halfway through the period, you’re already irritated. The fluorescent lights inside the girls' bathroom buzz overhead as you shove the door open, immediately greeted by the smell of hairspray and cheap perfume.
Two girls linger by the mirrors, gossiping quietly, but they scatter a minute later, leaving you alone at the sinks. Finally.
You lean against the counter, reapplying lip gloss absentmindedly while your mind drifts back to this morning. Eddie’s arm around your waist, the look on his face after you kissed his cheek, the way he’d stared at you like—
The bathroom door swings open again, and you glance up automatically through the mirror. And there she is.
Chrissy Cunningham.
Pretty pink sweater, perfect blonde curls, glossy lips, and a sweet smile are already in place the second your eyes meet in the reflection.
“Oh my God,” she says brightly. “Hi.”
Your stomach tightens immediately because there’s nothing technically wrong with her tone. But, still. You cap your lip gloss slowly. “Hey.”
Chrissy walks over to the sink beside yours, setting her little makeup bag down carefully. Everything about her feels soft, polished, and intentional. Very different from you, which somehow annoys you that much more.
“I feel like I haven’t properly introduced myself yet,” she says while washing her hands delicately. “Robin talks about you constantly.”
You lean lightly against the counter. “Hopefully good things.”
Chrissy laughs softly. “Mostly about how pretty you are.”
There’s a tiny pause after that, just enough to feel loaded. You glance at her through the mirror. “Mostly?”
Her smile widens slightly. “You know Robin.” Of course, even her smile is cute.
Chrissy pulls a lip gloss from her bag next, applying it carefully while looking at you through the mirror instead of directly at you. “So,” she says casually, “you and Eddie seem close already.”
There it is. You shrug one shoulder like you haven’t spent all day thinking about him. “Guess so.”
“Mhm.” The sound is light, not quite judgmental enough to call out. You hate that.
Chrissy finally turns toward you fully now, leaning against the counter beside you. “He likes you.”
Straight to the point, interesting. You raise an eyebrow slightly. “Did he tell you that?”
“No,” she says quickly, almost laughing. “Eddie’s terrible at admitting things.”
The familiarity in her voice scratches at something unpleasant in your chest. Like she knows him well, too well. You busy yourself fixing the sleeve of your jacket. “You seem pretty confident about it.”
Chrissy tilts her head slightly, studying you for a second too long. “I’ve known Eddie a long time.” And there it is again. It’s not mean or rude, but just enough emphasis to feel territorial.
You smile back anyway. “That so?”
“Mhm.” Chrissy’s tone stays airy and sweet. “People usually think he’s flirting with everyone, but he’s actually kinda picky.”
Your jaw tightens faintly because what exactly is that supposed to mean? Chrissy notices the shift immediately and smiles more sweetly.
“Oh my God,” she says suddenly. “Wait, I didn’t mean that in a bad way.” Liar.
“You’re really pretty together, actually.”
Together. Interesting choice of words. You stare at her for a second, trying to decide if she’s intentionally messing with you or if this is just how she talks. The worst part? You genuinely can’t tell.
Then Chrissy reaches for her bag again, slinging it over her shoulder before heading toward the door. But right before she leaves, she pauses and glances back at you.
“Just don’t break his heart, okay?”
Then she smiles one last time and disappears out the bathroom door before you can even respond, leaving you standing there alone under the fluorescent lights. Annoyed, confused, and suddenly very aware that this whole thing with Eddie might not be as simple as you thought.
By the end of the school day, Eddie’s practically vibrating with anticipation, which is embarrassing.
But in his defense, you’d been on his mind literally all day. Ever since this morning, honestly. Ever since you kissed his cheek and walked away, looking all smug while he internally combusted in the hallway.
So yeah, he’s waiting outside your last period class ten minutes early. Leaning against the lockers with one boot hooked against the wall, twirling his van keys around his finger while students pass by.
And the second he sees you walk out of the classroom, his face lights up automatically.
“There she is,” he says immediately. “My favorite—” Then he stops, because something’s off.
You don’t smile the same way you usually do when you see him, and don’t immediately drift toward him either. You just adjust your bag higher on your shoulder and lean beside him casually.
“…Hey,” he says, a little slower this time.
“Hey.”
Yeah. Definitely something wrong. Still, he tries anyway. “So, good news. I survived the school day.”
“Congratulations.”
“…Wow.”
You start walking down the hallway, and Eddie falls into step beside you automatically, watching you carefully now. Usually by now you’re teasing him, laughing at something, looking at him. Now? Nothing.
“You alright?” he asks after a minute.
“Mhm.”
“That sounded fake.”
You shrug.
Eddie’s brows pull together slightly. “Okay, now I know something’s wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“Sweetheart,” he says lightly, “you haven’t insulted me once in like… three minutes.”
That almost gets a smile out of you, heavy on almost. And that’s what really tips him off. Eddie reaches for your wrist gently, stopping you near the side exit doors, where the hallway’s quieter now.
“Hey,” he says, softer. “What happened?”
You look at him finally, those stupidly adorable brown eyes already searching your face like he’s trying to solve you. Which makes this even more annoying, because he looks genuinely confused.
You cross your arms lightly. “What’s going on with you and Chrissy?”
Eddie blinks once. “…What?”
“Chrissy.”
His expression somehow gets even more confused. “Chrissy Cunningham?”
“No, Chrissy fucking Teigen, Eddie.”
That finally earns a startled laugh out of him. “Okay, alright— Jesus.”
But you’re still looking at him expectantly, not joking.
Eddie’s smile fades slightly. “Wait. What about her?”
You hesitate for half a second before deciding absolutely not, you are not gonna sound jealous right now. So instead, you shrug like it’s casual.
“She talked to me today.”
Eddie nods slowly. “Okay…”
“In the bathroom.”
“…Okay?”
“And she was being weird.”
That makes him snort softly. “Chrissy’s always kinda weird.”
You narrow your eyes immediately. “You know what I mean.”
Eddie studies your face for another second before realization slowly starts creeping in. “…Wait.”
His eyebrows lift. “Oh, my God.”
You immediately hate the grin starting to form on his face. “No,” you warn.
“You’re jealous.”
“I am NOT jealous.”
“You are SO jealous.”
You scoff loudly, starting to walk again immediately, but Eddie follows beside you, grinning like an idiot now. “That’s actually adorable.”
“Eddie.”
“You thought me and Chrissy— sweetheart, no.”
The pet name lands annoyingly hard, yet you keep your expression flat anyway. “She seems to think there’s a ‘me and Chrissy.’”
That wipes the grin off his face slightly. “…What’d she say?”
You shrug again, looking ahead instead of at him. “Just weird stuff. Talking about how long she’s known you. Saying you get nervous around people you like.” You glance over finally. “Which, apparently, she knows from experience.”
Eddie groans immediately, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, my God.”
“So there is something.”
“No!” he says quickly. “Jesus Christ, no.”
You raise an eyebrow. Eddie exhales hard before stepping in front of you, suddenly near the parking lot doors, forcing you to stop walking.
“Okay,” he says. “Look at me for a second.”
You do, reluctantly.
“Chrissy and I are friends.”
“Mhm.”
“That’s it.”
“She doesn’t act like that’s it.”
Eddie sighs. “Chrissy flirts with literally everyone.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Don’t you flirt with ‘literally everyone’?”
Eddie stares at you for a second, then his expression softens completely.
“No,” he says quietly. “Just you.”
And unfortunately? That does something violent to your stomach. Because he sounds sincere.
Eddie steps a little closer then, eyes searching yours carefully. “Did you seriously think I was spending all day following you around and staring at you because I’m secretly in love with Chrissy Cunningham?”
You cross your arms tighter anyway. “Maybe.”
“Sweetheart.” He laughs softly now. “I barely noticed Chrissy today.”
That shouldn’t make you as happy as it does, so you try to look away before he notices. Too late.
“Oh, there she is,” Eddie murmurs teasingly. “There’s my girl again.”
“I’m not your girl.”
His grin comes back instantly. “Sure you aren’t.”
The drive home starts soft again, which honestly feels worse after the whole Chrissy conversation. Because now every little thing Eddie does feels more intentional somehow.
The late afternoon sun spills gold through the windshield while music hums low through the van speakers, your legs stretched across the bench seat slightly as Eddie drives one-handed through Hawkins.
And his other hand? Resting warm against your thigh, like it naturally belongs there. At first, it’s casual, barely there. Then his thumb starts moving absentmindedly against your jeans whenever he talks, tracing slow little patterns that make it impossible to focus on literally anything else.
You glance down at his hand once.
“What?” he asks, mouth twitching.
“Nothing.”
“That looked like a lie.”
You turn toward the window again to hide your smile. “You’re cocky today.”
“Today?” Eddie laughs softly. “Baby, I’ve been cocky.”
The nickname hits harder now after the hallway conversation, especially because his voice sounds quieter this time, more affectionate than teasing.
The van stops at a red light, and Eddie glances over at you again, curls falling into his face slightly. “…You busy tonight?”
Your eyes flick toward him. “Depends.”
“On?”
“How good your offer is.”
Eddie grins immediately. “Jesus Christ, you make me work for it.”
“Always.”
The light turns green again, but he keeps glancing over every few seconds anyway. Then finally:
“Go out with me tonight.” You blink once.
The confidence in his tone disappears just enough at the edges for you to notice he’s actually nervous about asking.
“Like… a date?” you ask casually.
Eddie scoffs. “No, sweetheart. I just like to ask all girls to stare at me lovingly over greasy diner food.”
You laugh quietly before looking back out the windshield, mostly so he doesn’t see the smile you’re trying to hide.
“And what if I say no?”
“Then I throw myself into traffic.”
“You are so dramatic!”
“You like it.”
Unfortunately, yes. Yes, you do.
His hand squeezes your thigh once, gently. “C’mon,” he says, softer. “Lemme take you out.”
The warmth in his voice ruins you a little, so you sigh dramatically like this is a burden. “Fine.”
Eddie goes still beside you. “…Fine?”
You shrug innocently. “I guess you can take me on a date.”
His grin spreads slowly. “Holy shit.”
“Relax.”
You roll your eyes affectionately. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Have we met?”
Then suddenly, his dashboard lights up, your eyes automatically flicking downward.
Incoming call: Chrissy C
Your stomach drops immediately, and the smile falls off his face almost instantly. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
But it’s already too late. Because all the warm softness from five seconds ago immediately twists into something sharp and unpleasant in your chest.
You look away toward the window, and Eddie declines the call immediately.
“She probably just needs notes or something,” he says quickly.
“Sure she does.”
“Seriously.”
Another buzz, this time a voicemail notification. You laugh once under your breath, and it’s definitely not a happy laugh.
Eddie glances over at you again. “Hey.”
“It’s fine.”
“That definitely means it’s not fine.”
You shrug one shoulder, suddenly very interested in the passing trees outside your window. “You can answer if you want.”
“I don’t want to.”
“But you usually do?”
Eddie exhales sharply through his nose. “Jesus Christ.”
God, you hate how jealous you sound. Absolutely hate it. Especially because you barely even have a right to be jealous yet.
The van goes quieter for a second after that. Then Eddie suddenly pulls into the empty parking lot beside Lovers Lake instead of continuing toward town.
Your brows pull together. “What are you doing?”
He parks crookedly before turning toward you fully. “I’m fixing this before you spend the rest of the night pissed at me.”
You stare at him.
Eddie’s expression softens almost immediately. “Sweetheart,” he says gently, “I asked you on a date like thirty seconds ago.”
“So?”
“So why would I do that if I wanted Chrissy?”
Your jaw tightens faintly. “Maybe you want both.”
Eddie looks genuinely horrified by that. “No,” he says instantly. “Absolutely not.”
You finally look at him fully then. And unfortunately? He looks sincere again. Completely and utterly sincere.
Eddie reaches over carefully, fingers brushing your chin lightly until your eyes meet his properly.
“I like you,” he says simply. “Like… really fucking obviously.”
Your stomach flips.
“And Chrissy knows that now,” he continues. “Which is probably why she’s acting weird.”
You blink slightly. “…What?”
Eddie leans back against the seat with a sigh. “Chrissy and I have always kinda flirted, okay? But nothing has ever happened.” He looks back at you carefully. “And now suddenly I can’t shut up about you, so yeah, she’s probably irritated.”
That shouldn’t make you feel better, but it absolutely does.
You look down at your lap for a second before muttering, “Still annoying.”
Eddie laughs softly. “Yeah. It is.”
Then his fingers hook gently beneath your chin again.
“Don’t get all mad at me now,” he murmurs. “I kinda like when you’re mean, but I’d rather you just kiss me instead.”
Your stomach flips violently. God, he’s smooth. You narrow your eyes slightly anyway, mostly so he doesn’t notice how affected you are. “You think you’re very charming.”
“I know I am.” Cocky asshole.
Still, you lean forward anyway and kiss him. Not the cheek this time.
His breath catches instantly the second your lips touch his. It’s soft at first. Tentative for maybe half a second before Eddie’s hand slides firmly against your waist, pulling you closer across the bench seat like he physically cannot help himself.
And suddenly the kiss gets warmer, the kind that leaves your stomach floating somewhere near your ribs. Eddie kisses like he talks: confident at first, then devastating once he realizes you’re kissing him back just as hard.
By the time you pull away, his curls are messier than before, and he looks genuinely dazed. Like you just hit him over the head with a shovel.
“…Oh,” he says faintly.
You laugh softly despite yourself.
Eddie stares at you for another second before dragging a hand down his face dramatically. “Jesus Christ.”
“You alright there, Munson?”
“No,” he says honestly. “Not even remotely.”
That earns another laugh out of you. And God, that sound absolutely kills him. You settle back into your seat again, trying to regain some composure while Eddie continues staring at you like he’s seeing the physical embodiment of religion.
Then finally: “You should take me home.”
Eddie blinks once. “…What?”
You grin slightly. “I have this date that I need to get ready for.”
His jaw actually drops. “Oh, you are evil.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Debatable.”
Still muttering dramatically under his breath, Eddie starts the van again and pulls back onto the road. But now his hand definitely doesn't leave your thigh the entire drive home.
The second you get into your bedroom, you kick your shoes off, grab the phone beside your vanity mirror, and click on FaceTime.
Robin answers first, immediately.
And immediately screams. “OH, MY GOD.”
You wince, holding the phone farther away. “Jesus Christ.”
“No, absolutely not.” Robin’s face fills the screen while she points accusingly. “You kissed him.”
Your eyebrows lift. “How do you know that already?”
“Because Eddie just called Gareth and apparently sounded like he got drafted into war.”
You burst out laughing before another face suddenly appears beside Robin’s. Vicky.
“Oh, this is serious,” Vicky says immediately. “She called for backup.”
“You’re both dramatic.”
“Says the girl currently glowing,” Robin shoots back.
You roll your eyes, already digging through your closet. “I need outfit help.”
Both girls gasp loudly at the same time. Vicky clutches her chest theatrically. “She’s in deep.”
“I’m literally going to a diner.”
“With Eddie,” Robin emphasizes.
“…Unfortunately.”
Robin narrows her eyes. “You like him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Liar,” both girls say instantly.
You ignore them, holding up two different tops toward the camera instead. “Okay. Focus. Which one says ‘I’m casually hot and definitely not trying too hard’?”
Robin immediately points. “Black.”
Vicky points the other direction. “Absolutely not. Red.”
“Thank you,” you tell Vicky.
“BOOOO,” Robin yells. “You can’t trust her; she supports chaos.”
“Exactly,” Vicky says proudly.
You laugh under your breath, tossing clothes onto your bed while the two of them continue arguing loudly through the phone.
Your bedroom smells faintly like vanilla candles and hairspray now, golden evening light spilling through the curtains while you drag eyeliner carefully across your lash line.
“So wait,” Vicky says from the phone screen, “start over. Exactly what did Chrissy say?”
You lean back slightly, screwing the cap back onto your eyeliner. “That’s the thing. It wasn’t technically mean.”
Robin groans immediately. “Those are the WORST girls.”
“I’m serious!” you insist. “She was all sweet and smiley the entire time.”
“Which somehow makes it more threatening,” Vicky says wisely.
“THANK you.”
Robin points aggressively through the screen. “See, I told you. Chrissy weaponizes kindness.”
You snort softly, reaching for your mascara. “That sounds insane.”
“Because it IS insane,” Robin says. “But she does it anyway.”
You shake your head, thinking back to the bathroom again.
Chrissy’s perfect curls, the sweet smile, the way she kept saying Eddie’s name as if it belonged to her. Your stomach twists again, annoyingly.
“She kept bringing up how long she’s known him,” you mutter while fixing your mascara carefully. “Like every sentence was secretly a threat.”
Vicky gasps dramatically. “Ohhhh, someone's jealous.”
Robin nods instantly. “Yeah, that’s territorial behavior.”
“She literally told me not to break his heart.”
Both girls go silent. Then: “Oh, that’s psycho,” Robin says immediately.
“RIGHT?” you exclaim.
Vicky leans closer to the camera. “No, because that’s actually so manipulative.”
“And Eddie acts like nothing’s going on!”
Robin scoffs. “Because Eddie’s dumb.”
“Hey,” you say automatically.
Robin freezes. Slowly grins.
“…Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You defended him.”
You immediately point your mascara wand threateningly at the screen. “Do not start.”
Vicky’s already giggling. “No, Robin’s right. You defended him instinctively.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did,” Robin says. “Also the fact you’re doing a full post-crisis debrief while getting ready for a date with him is making me insane.”
You look back at your reflection quickly, pretending to focus on blending your makeup instead of how warm your face suddenly feels.
“It’s not a crisis.”
“You got jealous.”
“I got suspicious.”
“Jealous,” both girls say together.
You groan loudly, throwing your beauty blender onto the vanity dramatically. “Fine. Maybe a little.”
Robin actually clutches her chest. “OH this is huge.”
“She kissed him today too,” Vicky says casually.
Robin whips toward the camera so fast she nearly falls off-screen. “WAIT. ON THE MOUTH?”
You immediately laugh. “Jesus Christ, Vicky.”
“What?” she says innocently. “That’s relevant information.”
Robin looks deeply betrayed. “And you DIDN’T LEAD WITH THAT?”
“It was one kiss.”
“One kiss?” Robin repeats hysterically. “You’ve known this man for like three days!”
“Sometimes when it’s right, it’s right,” Vicky says sagely.
“You are not helping.”
Robin’s eyes narrow suddenly. “Wait.”
You immediately recognize that tone. “What?”
“She saw you kiss him this morning.”
You blink once. “Who?”
“Chrissy.” Oh...OH. Your stomach drops slightly as realization settles in.
Because Chrissy absolutely had been standing near the front office when you kissed Eddie’s cheek goodbye.
Robin watches your expression change and immediately points again. “THAT’S why she cornered you in the bathroom.”
Vicky gasps dramatically. “This is becoming a soap opera.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, even though you’re starting to think they might be right.
Robin leans closer to the screen again. “Okay but important question.”
“What?”
“Are we trying to make her jealous tonight?”
You blink. “…What?”
“She started psychological warfare first,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “We retaliate.”
Vicky nods solemnly beside her. “Correct.”
“You two are terrible influences.”
“And yet,” Robin says smugly, “you called us.”
Your mascara’s barely dry by the time your phone buzzes beside you. Robin’s still mid-rant about “counteracting blonde warfare” when you glance down at the screen, and immediately smile.
“Oh my God,” she says flatly. “That’s him.”
You try, failing miserably, to hide the grin tugging at your mouth as you unlock the phone.
Vicky makes a wounded noise. “That’s disgusting actually.”
“You want him soooo bad,” Robin says, pointing at the screen while you laugh quietly under your breath.
“I hate both of you.”
“Mhm,” Robin says knowingly. “Go see your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You kissed him twice in one day.”
Your face heats immediately. “Goodbye.”
Robin cackles as you end the FaceTime before either of them can say anything worse.
Outside, the evening air’s cooler now, soft summer dusk settling over the neighborhood while headlights glow warmly at the end of your driveway. Eddie’s van.
And there he is, leaning against the driver’s side door with a cigarette between his lips, leather jacket thrown over a black band tee, curls messy like he’s been dragging his hands through them impatiently.
Then he looks up and stops breathing again, visibly.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mutters to himself.
You shut the front door behind you slowly, pretending not to notice the way his eyes drag over you immediately. From your boots, to your outfit, to your lips, the exact lips he kissed earlier.
His cigarette hangs forgotten between his fingers now as you walk closer.
“Well?” you ask innocently. “You surviving?”
Eddie laughs once under his breath, sounding slightly tortured. “No, sweetheart. Not even a little.”
You stop in front of him, tilting your head slightly. “You’re staring again.”
“Can you blame me?”
The low warmth in his voice hits straight to your stomach. Eddie reaches out before he can stop himself, fingertips hooking lightly through one of your belt loops just to tug you a tiny bit closer.
“You look…” He exhales sharply through his nose. “Jesus Christ.”
You grin. “That good?”
“That dangerous,” he corrects.
His hand lingers at your waist for another second before he leans down slightly, lowering his voice. “Tell me you didn’t dress like this just to ruin my life.”
You look up at him through your lashes innocently. “Maybe a little.”
Eddie actually groans. “Oh, you think you’re funny.”
“I think you like it.”
His eyes flick down to your mouth instantly. For a second, it genuinely looks like he’s debating kissing you right there in the driveway. Instead, Eddie pulls back just enough to open the passenger door for you dramatically.
“C’mon,” he says, still grinning slightly. “Before I start acting less like a gentleman, and more like a dog in heat.”
A couple of hours later, Eddie decides he’s officially obsessed with hearing you talk. That’s the conclusion he comes to while sitting across from you in the diner booth, elbow hooked over the table while he watches you animatedly complain about your old school.
Apparently, according to you, everyone there was “painfully boring”, the art department sucked, and your ex-boyfriend once tried to tell you The Smiths were “too depressing.”
Which made Eddie nearly choke on his fries. “He said what?” Eddie laughs, genuinely horrified.
You steal one of his onion rings casually. “Exactly what you just heard.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says dramatically, clutching his chest. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“No,” Eddie grins. “I’m judging him.”
The diner’s mostly empty this late, neon lights glowing pinkish-red against the windows while old rock music hums softly from somewhere near the kitchen. And honestly? It’s easy with him. Way too damn easy.
Conversation never really stops. One topic bleeds into another naturally: music, old school, embarrassing childhood stories, favorite movies, tattoos Eddie wants but definitely can’t afford.
At one point, you laugh so hard that soda nearly comes out of your nose. Eddie looks devastatingly pleased with himself afterward.
“Yeah,” he says smugly. “That one got you.”
“You’re annoying.”
“Sure, I am.”
By the time you leave the diner, the air outside’s colder, nighttime settling fully over Hawkins while the parking lot glows under flickering street lamps.
Now you’re sitting together on the curb beside Eddie’s van, sharing a cigarette. Well, mostly sharing because Eddie keeps stealing it back every few seconds.
“You know,” you say, exhaling smoke toward the sky, “you’re kinda clingy for someone trying to act mysterious.”
Eddie scoffs beside you. “I gave up the mysterious thing once you started looking at me like that.”
You glance over. “Like what?”
“Like you wanna kiss me again.”
Your stomach flips immediately. Cocky asshole.
You bump your shoulder lightly against his. “Maybe I do.”
Eddie goes suspiciously quiet after that, which is strange. Normally, he’d have something smooth ready instantly. Instead, when you look over, he’s just staring at you again.
The streetlight catches against the silver rings on his fingers, curls falling messily into his face, while smoke curls lazily around both of you.
And your makeup’s slightly smudged now. Lips shiny from your milkshake earlier, laugh lingering faintly in your expression. Eddie’s completely gone for you. You notice him reaching for something a second too late.
“Wait—”
Flash.
Your eyes widen immediately as Eddie lowers his phone, grinning like a little shit.
“Eddie!”
“What?” he laughs. “You looked pretty.”
Your face heats instantly. “Delete it.”
“Can’t. Technology. You know what they say about the internet and all.”
You groan loudly while Eddie keeps laughing beside you, already typing away.
“No, seriously,” you say. “That probably looks terrible.”
“Sweetheart.” Eddie looks at you like you’ve said something genuinely stupid. “You could probably survive a natural disaster and still look hot.”
You raise your eyebrows as he’s smirking at his phone, looking oh-so-pleased with himself when he drops it by his side.
“What?”
“Nothin’,” he replies, but that smirk tells you everything you need to know. You snatch his phone, and it’s already opened on Instagram. Your stomach actually flips because Eddie posted the picture.
You look soft, like someone he adores and enjoys taking candid pictures of.
And over the top of the story, Eddie typed:
Your face heats violently.
“Oh my God.”
Eddie looks entirely too pleased with himself. “Too much?”
“You’re insane.”
“And yet,” he says, leaning closer beside you with a grin, “you’re smiling.”
“You are never beating the obsessed allegations,” you mutter softly.
Eddie grins against the cigarette between his lips. “I don’t particularly want to.”
You shake your head, but you’re smiling too hard for the insult to land properly.
“See?” he says quietly. “There it is again.”
“What?”
“That smile.”
God. You look over at him finally, and suddenly, he’s closer than before.
Close enough to smell smoke and leather and diner coffee still lingering on him, close enough to see the tiny freckle beneath his eye, close enough that his gaze flicks down toward your mouth for maybe half a second too long. Then back up again.
Your breath catches slightly.
“You keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs softly, “and I’m gonna do something irresponsible.”
You tilt your head slightly. “Like what?”
That cocky little grin returns immediately, then disappears again just as fast when you lean closer first this time, and kiss him.
The cigarette gets abandoned somewhere beside him instantly as Eddie’s hand slides against your jaw, pulling you closer with a quiet noise low in his throat like he’s wanted to do this all night.
The kiss turns warm embarrassingly fast. Slow at first, then smiling, then downright hungry. By the time you pull away, Eddie looks genuinely wrecked again. Lips pink, hair even messier somehow, eyes heavy-lidded while he stares at you like he’s trying to recover from psychic damage.
“…You are so bad for me,” he says softly.
You laugh quietly before settling against his shoulder, still warm from the kiss.
Eddie immediately wraps an arm around you automatically, pulling you closer against his side while the two of you sit there beneath the buzzing parking lot lights.
His phone still rests in your hand while the story continues collecting reactions every few seconds.
rockin.robin replied to your story: OH HES GONEEEEE
hair-ington replied to your story: Munson’s cooked.
You snort softly against Eddie’s shoulder while scrolling.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing.” You grin. “Your friends are making fun of you.”
“They’re jealous.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
The sincerity in his voice almost catches you off guard. Before you can respond, Eddie’s phone buzzes beside him.
He glances down absentmindedly, still holding you close with one arm while unlocking the screen, and immediately goes still. You feel it happen, that tiny shift in his body. Your eyes flick downward automatically.
chrissy.cunningham replied to your story.
And before either of you can say anything, another notification appears.
chrissy.cunningham: is that her jacket or yours?
WELLLLLLL SHIT.
hope you all enjoyed!!! missed writing SO MUCH AH xoxoxo
requests are coming out soon! i have two more to finish and then i'll start replying/doing more etc.
taglist is open:))
taglist:
@lilshaely @kennedy-brooke @fangirlll2000 @lananabanana42 @velvetdimond @naomiiily @frostywinterstrawberry @bonnieprincess @mdurdenpitt @f-remastered @snoopypisces @am0iur @livvy0390 @aprincess-orjustme
@bitterestwillow@kozume-ko, @obsessed-eddie, @doomdabss, @julxsxx, @leelei1980@hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses@meadows-of-asphodel @whitakerstorm @dreamerjj @sariahs-stuff @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @sisteramycatherine @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullstevepeachpuffs25 @abirdinthehouse @m-art000 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg @velvetdimond
